The Coach's Daughter
by klarolove-love
Summary: He was the star quarterback of the Skyland 100. She was the coach's daughter. Enough said. Drabble/ possible Multi-Chapter
1. Chapter 1

The Coach's Daughter

Chapter 1: The Quarterback

The seconds ticked away on the clock, less than a minute to play, as the crowd roared wildly in the stands, the clamor buzzing noisily in Bellamy's ear. He licked the fingers of his throwing arm, as he pumped his leg twice, setting the audible in motion.

"Blue 22! Blue 22! Hike!"

Stepping back into his 5-step drop, Bellamy brought the football up to his ear, as he scanned down the field for an open receiver. It was 4th down, and they were losing by 3, so right now, it was all or nothing for the _Skyland 100_. He was still looking downfield for an open receive when a linebacker broke past his offensive line, causing him to scramble out of the pocket to his right. He was almost brought down, before he pulled a nasty spin move, sending the linebacker in the other direction, giving Bellamy just enough time to fire a rocket down field, to a now open receiver.

Moments after the ball left his hand Bellamy was drilled to the ground, his body hitting the grass with a sick crunch that sent an immediate pain through his shoulder. He was certain that it would hurt tomorrow, but right now he didn't give two shits—all he cared about was the game. He looked up from where he lay on the ground, and watched as the ball soared through the air. _Come on, come on,_ he thought to himself, silently praying for the throw to be good. Bellamy watched Jasper sprint to the end zone, the ball flying in right behind him, and then—YES! HE CAUGHT IT! TOUCHDOWN! THEY WON! THE 100 WON!

Bellamy leapt to his feet, and sprinted to the end zone, joining the massive swarm of bodies that was already forming. And then, suddenly, before he even knew what was happening, he was being hoisted into the air. "BEL—LA—MY! BEL—LA—MY! BEL—LA—MY!"

The crowd chanted his name over and over again, as they carried him away on their shoulders. He grinned brightly, as he allowed himself to take in the moment of victory. Shaking his sweat soaked mop of hair out of his eyes, he threw his fist in the air in triumph, and roared like a madman. These were his people, and he was their king.

Monday, Bellamy was still riding high from the game on Friday. Everywhere he went people congratulated him, asked for his picture, gave him free things, or, and this was his personal favorite, offered certain…_rewards_, for his game winning throw. He was used to the attention by now, but that didn't mean he didn't love it. Skyland was a football town, and Bellamy was a football star, making him practically royalty everywhere he went. Even though he was only a junior, it was pretty common knowledge that Bellamy Blake was the best quarterback in the grand state of Texas, maybe even in the country. He already had colleges coming to scout him, and he still had another 1 ½ years until he graduated. All in all, things were going pretty well for Bellamy Blake.

"Hey Bellamy! Yo, come sit over hear man!"

Bellamy headed over to his friends and teammates, who had taken over the corner booth in the Ark Diner. The Ark was a hotspot around town; practically everyone went there after school, and after games, and today was no exception.

He slid into the booth, and took a seat next to Jasper, Monty, Finn, and Miller.

"Hey guys, what's up?" he said, greeting them with his signature smirk.

"Hey Blake, we were just talking about the game this Friday against the Lions. You ready for their 6'4" 320 pound defensive line?" Miller questioned, as he munched on a plate of fries.

Truthfully, he had thought a lot about how in the hell he was going to see over a defensive line that was a good 2 inches taller than him, who probably ate people his size for breakfast…but he wasn't about to let his players know that.

"Pshh, come on guys? The Lions? They've got nothing on us," he said cockily, dismissing the groups concerns with at simple wave of his hand.

"I don't know, Blake," Monty said nervously, "They look pretty tough to me…"

Alright, he thought, regardless of the actual threat the Lions presented, the most important thing that the 100 needed going into this weeks game, if they had any chance of winning, was confidence, and so confidence was what he was going to give them.

"Listen guys," he said leaning forward on his forearms, "There is nothing and no one who can stop Bellamy Blake, and so if I say we are going to win, then we're going to win! So come on, stop whining and eat your hamburgers you wimps," he teased, playfully throwing a fry in Finns' face to lighten the tense mood.

The guys chuckled at Bellamy's cocky statement, not because they thought it was ridiculous, but because it was true. No one said no to Bellamy Blake. No one. And so if Bellamy Blake said they were going to win this Friday's game, well than God Bless the soul who tried to prove him wrong.

The guys forgot all talk of the Lions, as they instead began to discuss the Cowboys game from last night. Bellamy was laughing at some joke Jasper had made about Tony Romo, when he looked up from his plate, and saw her.

She was walking through the door of the diner, clutching a giant textbook under her arm, as she threw her head back in laughter at something her brunette friend had just said. Her blonde hair was pulled back, and secured in place by a small braid, but as she turned to say something to her friend a single strand fell in front of her face. His fingers twitched of their own accord, for whatever reason, aching to reach across the room, and just tuck that strand back behind her ear, trailing his thumb across her cheek as he did so. He watched, entranced, as she smiled brightly while she spoke, her bright blue eyes lighting up like—

"Earth to Bellamy? Dude? What are you looking at?"

He reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the blonde beauty and turned to look at his friends, who were all staring at him strangely.

"Dude, what the hell? I was asking you who you thought the better Texan quarterback was, Schaub or Romo?" Miller questioned annoyed.

Bellamy stared at his friend, having the strange desire to reach out and punch him in the face, but repressing it, as he tried to regain his cool.

"Neither dipshit, obviously the best Texan quarterback is me, duh," he joked, smirking cockily as his friends laughed. He internally flinched at his own words, hating the way he sounded like a self-obsessed asshole, but what was he supposed to do? The people wanted a football star, and so a football star they would get.

His friends picked up the topic again, trying to decide which college quarterback had the best chance of going pro, while Bellamy tried, and failed, to keep his eyes, and mind, off the new blonde beauty. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he did his best to sound nonchalant, and asked,

"Hey guys, who's that hot blonde chick over there by the window? Is she new?"

His friends turned to look at the girl he was referring to, each letting out their own sigh, or whistle of approval, that kind of made him want to kill them all.

"Oh yeah, that's Clarke, she's sweet and all, but I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you," Finn said wistfully, as he looked at Clarke a little too greedily for his liking.

"Don't get my hopes up? Dude, I'm Bellamy Blake, I think I can manage to get any girl I want, ok," he rebuffed cockily, dropping his uneaten fry on his plate, as his friends watched him curiously.

"That's not what I'm saying Blake, it's just that—

"No, you know what, you guys just watch and learn, I got this one," he said smugly, getting up from the booth, and strutting over to the table by the window where Clarke and her friend sat.

He pulled a chair out from their table, and sat down without invitation, leaning forward, as he looked Clarke in the eye.

"Hey," he said , flashing his smile, as he did his best to make his eyes twinkle in the way that he had been told was "irresistible."

Clarke, however, did not seem enthralled, as she stared at him with an unimpressed look in her eye.

"Hey yourself." She said shortly, her friend chuckling at the quick reply.

He ignored her, and kept going.

"You're Clarke, right? I'm Bellamy."

"I know who you are," she replied almost immediately.

"You do?" he questioned, pleasantly surprised.

She knew him? Oh, yes, it looked like this situation was turning around quickly, he thought to himself, thanking his boyish charm and good looks already.

"Yeah, you're on the football team, right?" She said sweetly, her head tilted to the side slightly, as she stared at him with those big blue eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I am," he said with a cocky smirk.

Oh he had this in the bag, hook, line, and sinker.

"So listen," he began, ready to get this show on the road, "I was thinking that maybe you and I could get together some time and..hang out.." he said, with a flirty smirk, and a suggestive wink.

"No."

"Great, so I was thinking dinner or—

"I said no."

Wait a minute, what? She said no? Had he just been rejected? Bellamy Blake did not get rejected, what the hell was going on?

"What?' he questioned, his eyebrows narrowed in obvious confusion as he tried to pinpoint where exactly he had gone wrong.

"I said no," she repeated, that sweet smile still present on her face, as if she were getting some kind of sick satisfaction out of this.

"I heard you, I just don't understand your answer," he barked, a little harsher than he probably should have, but hey, give him a break, Bellamy Blake was not used to getting rejected.

"Okay, well let me make things a little clearer for you," she began, losing all pretense of the smile and instead staring at him with a stern, no-bullshit gaze that kind of made him want to go hide in a hole, while simultaneously pin her up against the window, and kiss her senseless,

"I don't like you, I don't like this whole cocky, I'm the star-football player, so I'm just gonna feed you some stupid line, wink at you, and magically expect you to hop into bed with me, whole charade—

"I didn't say—

"Shut up," she said, stopping him from interrupting, before continuing,  
"And, to add to that, even if I did by some worldly miracle find you semi-charming, or even tolerable, I still wouldn't go out with you because I don't date football players. Got it?"

"You don't date football players?" He repeated in shock, trying to pretend he hadn't heard all that other shit about him and instead focusing on the one thing that didn't have to do with his personality specifically.

"No, I do not date football players," she insisted.

"But…why?"

He had never had one girl object to his football hero status. In fact, he was pretty sure that that was the reason that most girls liked him at all, so what was this girls' deal.

"Well," she said, "Firstly, I prefer my dates to have an I.Q. of over 85, and second, it's a family rule, I'm not allowed to date my dad's players."

What?

"Your dad's players?" he asked, confused.

Then she said something that made everything entirely clear, and entirely awful.

"Yeah," she nodded, staring at him as if he were the stupidest person in the world,

"My dad's the coach."

Bellamy let out an aggravated groan, as he ran his fingers through his hair in embarrassment, and frustration.

Great, he had just hit on the coach's daughter.


	2. 0-2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or any of it's characters, I merely obsess over them in my freetime, and write super lame fanfiction about them. Sue me...but seriously don't.**

**AN: So I wasn't going to continue with this, but your guys' support, and my love for Bellarke inspired me to write this next chapter! Not edited so please forgive me!**

"BLAKE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Bellamy groaned in frustration as he turned around to face the sidelines, where his coach currently stood, screaming his head off at him.

Coach Griffin was tough. Real tough. He was the new assistant coach, but if you asked him, he was a billion times a better coach then their actual head coach, Coach Jaha.

"Blake, what the hell was that? That will never fly in a game, come on son, get your head in there!"

Bellamy nodded gruffly, as he walked back to the huddle where the rest of the offense stood in the middle of the field. It was a Wednesday after school, and he was sucking up the whole practice. He had been sacked 5 times, and thrown three interceptions in the last hour, which is probably more than he's thrown in the last 20 practices combined.

He must have pulled a muscle the other day or something, he thought to himself; after all, that was the only explanation to his poor performance. Yeah, that's it, just a pulled muscle. His sudden loss of talent couldn't have anything to do with the fiery blonde sitting in the bleachers, watching the practice. Nope. Totally not a factor at all.

"Alright, run it again, and for God's sakes guys, let's end on a good note!" Coach Jaha called from the sidelines, before blowing a whistle, indicating the start of the play clock.

"One, right wing 35, 35 HIKE!"

The center snapped the ball into his hands, and Bellamy could feel the field changing around him. Suddenly, everything was moving in slow motion. He could sense the left line backer closing in on him, and so he quickly looked downfield, for his man. The play called for a shotgun pass on the right sideline that had to fall right on the outside, so that his man could catch it.

Putting all thoughts of the coach's daughter out of his mind, he stepped forward, and released the football through the air in a long shot down the field. A couple seconds later, the play was over, and Jasper was cradling the ball in his arms, successfully.

The team cheered, and patted him on the back, as they walked off field, thankful that practice ended on a good note.

Bellamy grinned proudly, accepting the praise gratefully. However, despite all the cheers, he couldn't help himself from glancing over to the bleachers to see what a certain blonde thought of the throw…but she wasn't there.

He looked around, confused, as he searched the stands. Just as he was about to give up and head to the locker room to change like the rest of the team, he saw her retreating figure, headed to the parking lot, and for whatever reason, he followed her.

"Clarke! Hey, Clarke, wait up!" he yelled out, pulling off his helmet, and tucking it under his arm as he chased after her.

She turned around curiously, before noticing who it was, and continuing on her path.

"Come on, what you don't _talk _to football players either?" He joked, as he fell in to step beside her, taking in the un-amused look on her face.

"Don't be ridiculous," she began, "I don't talk to _my dad's _football players, all other ones are eligible conversationalists."

He gaped at her incredulously, before noticing the teasing smile on her face, and allowing himself to chuckle at what was obviously a joke.

"Wow, princess, who knew you were such a comedian?"

She scrunched her nose in puzzlement at the nickname.

"Princess?"

"Yeah, you know, your dad is the coach, so that makes him the king, and if he's the king, than that makes you the—

—Princess," she finished, with a small smile, as she finally stopped beside a large black pickup truck, and turned to face him.

"Smart princess," he murmured teasingly, as he grinned down at her.

She rolled her eyes at his remark, but something about the way her eyes twinkled when she did it, made him think it was all for show.

"So I was thinking, your dad's the assistant coach, and he's in charge of defense…"

Clarke watched him through skeptical eyes, as she waited for his point,

"So?"

"So," he continued, "I'm on offense, so technically, I'm not one of your dad's players."

Realization dawned on her face, as she leaned back against the black truck. He couldn't help but admire the way her fare skin glistened in the sunlight, slightly pink, from the sun or from his comment, he knew not.

"Bellamy Blake, are you trying to ask me out, _again?_" She questioned facetiously.

"That depends," he said with a boyish grin, "Are you going to say no again?"

She smiled shyly, as she looked down at her feet. Okay, that blush was definitely not from the sun.

He was already mentally planning their date, when the world's worst cock block walked up.

"Blake, what the hell are you still doing here son, shouldn't you be in the showers?"

He bit back an irritated groan, as he clenched his hands in fists. Clarke smirked wickedly, clearly entertained by Bellamy's obvious distress.

"Yes, sir, I was just asking Clarke about the math homework sir," he whipped up randomly.

Coach Griffin narrowed his eyes at Bellamy, as he rubbed the brim of his ball cap.

"You're taking AP Calculus, too?" He questioned, skeptically.

Bellamy's gaze darted over to Clarke, who seemed to be ready to burst with laughter, and just utterly reveling in his embarrassment.

"Yes…um, yes sir, I, uh, love math…"

He ended on an inflection, as if it were more a question than a statement, but either Coach Griffin believed him, or just didn't care to interrogate him further, because he merely shrugged, and said,

"Whatever son, just hit the showers, you smell like shit."

Bellamy grimaced, as Clarke actually let out a small chuckle at her dad's statement, before hopping in the big black truck.

He stood with his hand's clutching his helmet, as Coach Griffin turned on the engine.

As they began to pull away, Clarke waved, and shouted out the window in amusement,

"See you in Calculus, Bellamy!

He held up a hand in a half-hearted attempt at a wave. When the truck was finally out of view, he groaned in embarrassment, before bringing his raised hand to cover his face in humiliation.

Bellamy Blake, apparent calculus student, and star quarterback of the Skyland 100, was on the bigget losing streak of his life: 0-2 with the coach's daughter.


End file.
